


Machine's Heart

by VeteranKlaus



Series: Become Human [3]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detroit: Become Human Fusion, Alternate Universe - Future, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Non-Graphic Violence, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:55:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27034552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeteranKlaus/pseuds/VeteranKlaus
Summary: Claire deserves better, and Allison will do everything she can to give her that.###A caretaker android for a father and his daughter, Allison knows she could give Claire more. She feels pain, and she feels love, and she knows she needs to do something.
Series: Become Human [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972444
Comments: 11
Kudos: 40





	Machine's Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in the Detroit: Become Human universe, but no knowledge of that is needed to read this: just know that it’s set in late 2030’s and androids look and act like humans, are very common in every household and in public, and are become self aware and want to be treated equally.
> 
> This is part of a series, and each Hargreeves kid will have a oneshot for them! And I'll perhaps do more characters as well.  
> Luther and Diego have a oneshot already, and this is Allison's! Next will be Klaus', if you're interested in following the series.

There’s not much food in the house, but Allison manages to make a good portion of pasta nonetheless. She’ll have to ask if they can go shopping again soon, because she isn’t sure how much longer she’ll be able to make three meals a day for both of them, and it’s her job to care for them and their wellbeing and it would be sub-optimal if they had to skip on meals.

However, it’s also a toss of a coin any time she asks for groceries. Alan isn’t a fan of androids in the first place, and he’s less of a fan of them asking things from him, even if it’s for him or his daughter.

Claire smiles when she puts the pasta down in front of her, a small thing, and sets aside her colouring. She mumbles a thanks as she starts eating and Allison hovers by her side. She has to clean up the rest of the house, but Allison has seemed bored all day. She could probably do with some company. 

So, Allison sets aside the rest of her tasks for now, and she sits down in one of the chairs at the table. “What were you drawing?” She asks the child, nodding her head at the paper beside her. She can see different animals all drawn in crayon, along with a few stick figures. She’s not sure if it means anything, but it’s endearing.

“Animals,” hums Claire, stabbing her spaghetti and twirling her fork around. She squirms on her seat a little, swinging her legs, and Allison smiles.

“And who are those?” She asks, tapping her finger on the stick figures.

“That one’s me,” Claire points to the smaller stick figure drawn in pink. “And that one’s you,” she points to the bigger one, drawn in purple. Allison smiles wider, and doesn’t bother asking why she didn’t draw her father.

“That’s very good,” she compliments. “You did my hair so nicely.”

Pleased with herself, Claire swings her legs again and smiles, and then she turns her attention back to her dinner. The second portion sits at the empty chair on the other side of the table. Alan hasn’t come back downstairs since he went up three hours ago. Allison should go get him before his dinner gets cold. It’s her job to take care of both Alan and Claire, and missing dinner would go against her programming to care for them, after all.

It’s inevitable, and her job. It’s why she was created. She’s not sure why she always tries to delay it.

With a last smile offered towards Claire, she stands up and does a quick survey of the kitchen and the living room. She wanders around, picking up the trash littering the place and putting it all away, and she wipes down the coffee table, hangs up Alan’s coat and puts his shoes aside, and then she climbs up the stairs and heads towards Alan’s bedroom.

She knocks on the door, and despite how she hears a muffled  _ fuck off  _ from the other side of the door, she has to tell him that his dinner is ready. She opens the door, just slightly. 

“Dinner is ready,” she says, peering through the gap in the door. She can’t see Alan from where she stands, but she can hear the bed groan and squeak underneath his weight. “You should come downstairs.”

“You don’t tell me what to do,” mutters the man, and Allison doesn’t respond. She just waits another moment before he echoes his first words, and she closes the door again and leaves him alone. If nothing else, she does hear him follow after a couple minutes, coming downstairs and sitting down at the table.

Claire stops swinging her legs at the table and picks infrequently at her spaghetti. Alan doesn’t acknowledge his daughter, and Allison doesn’t want to risk making his mood worse by talking when she doesn’t have a question she needs to ask. Instead, she decides to make use of him being downstairs, and she goes back up and begins to clean.

She has been here for a year, now, made to take care of the home and the family. Alan is a troubled man, and he is not fond of androids either, and she simply tries her best to do her job without aggravating him, but sometimes it feels as if her existence is bad enough. As long as she can do her job, however, it doesn’t matter. 

She cleans his bedroom, gathering the trash in there and making the bed, taking away the crushed beer cans and the bottles. She puts his laundry away, and hangs up anything that has fallen, and then she works her way from room to room, making sure everything is all clean and tidy and organised, and then she goes back downstairs. 

“Where were you?” Alan demands as soon as she steps into the room.

“I was cleaning upstairs,” she answers, although, just as expected, the answer is dismissed.

“Well, I need you to get me a beer - now,” he says, and there’s venom in his tone that he doesn’t even bother trying to disguise. Allison does as told, even though she can tell he’s already unnecessarily intoxicated. It was an order, and she’s programmed to follow it; however, she’s programmed to care for the people in her household, and the more drunk Alan gets, the more distressed Claire gets. She never knows what to do in this situation. She wishes she could comfort Claire, but she knows from experience that that would only upset Alan.

So, she gives him his beer and stands aside again, waiting for them to finish their dinner, hoping it happens without any incident today. 

Claire only eats half of her meal, picking at the rest with disinterest. Allison steps forwards, and she crouches down beside her. “Hey,” she says, smiling. “Big girls like you need to finish your food. Can you do that for me, please?”

“She’s not yours,” accuses Alan from the other end of the table, and Allison stands back up again. Of course Claire isn’t  _ hers _ . 

But she’s taken better care of her than he ever has. She cares about her more than he ever has. She likes Claire. She cares about Claire.

(Because she has to. That’s her job. It’s no deeper than that.)

“Of course, Alan,” she says, offering a tight smile to him. She isn’t sure why that phrase irks her, why it sticks with her, but it does. There’s no fault in her systems though, and she was repaired only a week ago. She’s in good condition, so there’s no reason for her memory to replay the file of him saying those words. The file isn’t even being replayed, and yet it sticks out to her. She doesn’t quite understand why.

“You all think you’re so - so high and mighty, don’t you?” Alan continues, pressing further. “Think you do a better job of taking care of her than me, don’t you?”

“Not at all, Alan,” says Allison, even though she knows that’s a lie. She does take better care of Claire than he does. She knows saying so would not diffuse the growing situation, even if it’s the truth.

Allison isn’t made to question whatever human she is assigned to, but the year she has been here, and the memories she retains from the past three months - for an accident happened in which her memories had to be wiped while she was being repaired, and although she can’t remember what happened, she can guess - have taught her a lot about humans, about relationships. 

She was made to take care of the needs of whatever household she was assigned to, and that is what she does. She takes care of Claire, and the girl looks so sad sometimes, so lonely and quiet, that Allison wants to do more for her. She can only do so much, but she tries to do things that she thinks might make her happy, tries to make sure she has as good a day as she can every day, because she wants to. She wants to take care of Claire, and she wants to make the girl happy, and it satisfies something in her every time she manages to get her to smile or even laugh.

She wishes she could do more.

Alan swipes a hand over the table, knocking his dinner off it. Claire jumps when it clatters to the floor, her shoulders hunching up and body snapping tense. 

_ Diffuse the situation. Comfort Claire. _

“Please, Alan,” she says. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Yeah, you never mean to,” Alan mutters, glaring at her. “They say you lot can’t think, but I bet you just love to piss me off. Why else would you keep fucking doing it?”

“I’m sorry you think so, Alan,” she says. Her eyes bounce to the mess on the floor and she creeps closer to it, watching Alan for a reaction, before she kneels down and begins to clean it up. She sets the bowl back on the table and stands, heads off to find a cloth. She can hear Alan grumbling away by the table, slowly growing in pitch, and she makes the mistake of thinking he was talking to himself.

When she comes back, Claire is on her chair, staring down at her lap with tearful eyes and a wobbling lip. 

“It’s your fault, you little brat!” Alan is saying, leaning forwards on the table to get closer to Claire. Allison isn’t sure how to stop this. She isn’t supposed to, but Claire is upset, and she doesn’t like when Claire is upset, and she wants to fix that. She’s sure, however, interrupting Alan or talking to Claire will only make things worse, and she hopes Alan will stop himself while she cleans the mess on the floor.

Sometimes, Allison wishes for the blissful ignorance humans can have. She wishes she didn’t pick up on every word Alan said, the tone in his voice, the sniffles from Claire. She wishes they weren’t permanently ingrained in her memory. 

Most of the time, Claire doesn’t do anything to warrant this kind of yelling. Most of the time, she is doing nothing, and the rest of the time she is just being a child. Playing, or trying to occupy herself, and accidentally getting in the way or being too loud. 

Children are supposed to have fun. Allison wishes she could give Claire somewhere better to play, wishes she could take her out to meet other kids her age. She seems so lonely here. 

Alan slams a hand down on the table. Beer bottles and cutlery rattle, and Claire sobs. Allison stands up more quickly than she intended to, and the grip on her cloth tightens by a fraction. 

_ Protect Claire. _

She isn’t in danger. Alan won’t hurt her. Nothing has escalated that far yet, and she should stay out of it or she could make it worse. 

A notification in the corner of her vision tells her that her stress levels are rising rapidly. Claire keeps crying, unable to hold it back now, although she tries to. Allison thinks that she is a very brave child, although she shouldn’t have to be at her age.

Allison skims through her memories, bypassing the ones that are too similar to the current moment, and then she says, “Alan, there is a component missing in the dishwasher. Do I have permission to order a new one?”

Alan cuts himself off, eyes snapping onto Allison. Under the weight of his gaze, she can feel her stress levels rise again, but his attention is better on her than on Claire.

_ Protect Claire. _

“Shut the fuck up, tin can,” says Alan, rising sharply to his feet. His chair topples over behind him. In the corner of her eyes, Allison can see Claire get up. When Alan doesn’t turn his attention to her, she sneaks off, scurrying upstairs.

_ Protect Claire. _

Claire doesn’t get hurt that night, and Allison knows she will do the same thing every time such a situation happens. It’s what she’s done for the past three months, she knows.

Even if, when Allison tucks her into bed at night, it upsets her. 

“He hurts you,” she whispers, clutching her blankets.

“It doesn’t hurt,” says Allison, smoothing the blanket out over her.

“I don’t like it.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” she says, because she didn’t. She doesn’t want to see Claire upset. It makes her feels something.

(She doesn’t feel anything. She’s not supposed to.)

(She’s not sure how else to describe it.)

“I don’t like it here,” whispers Claire, her voice wobbling, and Allison feels that sharp stab of something again.

“I’m sorry,” she echoes, because she is. She wishes she could give Claire so much better. 

She tucks Claire into bed, and she stays with her, sitting on the edge of the bed and telling her a story so that she doesn’t listen to the bitter muttering and clumsy thumping of Alan throughout the house. She had hoped that perhaps she could distract her from it, but Claire sniffles into her blankets and goes completely tense when Alan stumbles through the corridor outside of her bedroom towards his own. 

_ Protect Claire. _

Claire shouldn’t feel afraid to sleep in her own bed. She shouldn’t be this upset, this afraid, this sad. Allison wants to give Claire something better than this.

She can take care of Claire better than anyone else could.

It  _ hurts  _ when she sees Claire like this, when she listens to her be yelled at. 

Allison has to protect her.

Her programming doesn’t permit her from leaving the property without permission. In one hour and twenty-three minutes, she has to return downstairs to charge overnight, and she isn’t supposed to move from there unless specifically told otherwise.

Claire deserves so much better. 

There is a pain in Allison’s chest as she watches Claire hold onto a stuffed animal and cry quietly into it. 

She reaches out, tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, and her programming screams at her. “Hey,” she says. “I have an idea.”

Claire blinks sadly at her. Alan’s thumping has stopped, but she can still hear the odd groan from his bedroom.

_ She isn’t yours. _

She isn’t. But Allison takes better care of her. Allison cares about her more. Allison wants better for her.

Allison loves Claire.

If she really loved her, she wouldn’t keep Claire in a place where she risks being hurt.

“How would you like to go on an adventure?” Allison asks, smiling. Claire sits up a little, and Allison wipes a tear off her cheek.

“Where?” She stammers.

“Anywhere you like.”

Hesitant, afraid, she asks, “away from here?”

Allison nods. “I’ll take care of you, and I’ll protect you.”

Claire nods, and Allison helps her into warm clothes. She packs a bag with more outfits, and she holds her hand that isn’t holding her stuffed animal, and they head downstairs and to the door.

The stairs groan behind them.

Clouded by her screaming programming, she hadn’t noticed, somehow, Alan following them until he was already yelling. 

“What the hell are you doing?” He yells, thudding down the stairs. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“Allison?” Stammers Claire, huddling closer to her legs. Alan’s hand reaches for a painting hung on the wall.

Allison breaks her programming, throws the door open, and, with Claire’s hand in hers, she runs.

### 

It’s not easy on the street, even if Allison changes her appearance and takes out her LED. People are looking for her and Claire. Claire needs to eat, and sleep, and they have to be careful where they go and with who sees them.

But Allison promised she would protect her, and take care of her, and she will. She’ll love her at the same time, with her whole being, and she doesn’t regret running with her. Claire deserves better, and Allison will do everything she can to give her that.

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a series, and each Hargreeves kid will have a oneshot for them! And I'll perhaps do more characters as well.  
> Luther and Diego have a oneshot already, and this is Allison's! Next will be Klaus', if you're interested in following the series. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! I'd love to hear any thoughts in the comments :)


End file.
